Desperate Times
by Imitosis11
Summary: AU! Kurt and Blaine have never met. Blaine Anderson is surprised and more than a little angry when a homeless Kurt Hummel breaks into his home.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Kurt was hungry. He was past the empty, growling stage and now there were simply sharp pangs every so often, strong enough to double him over for a few moments while he composed himself.

He hated being this desperate. Hated that he had to take things from people who had rightfully earned them. There was an awesome soup kitchen and shelter closer in to the city that Kurt had found great comfort in earlier in the season. Unfortunately for him, some severely homophobic and more than a little aggressive young men had also discovered this spot and made sure Kurt didn't come near it.

He stared up at the house he had chosen.

It wasn't a mansion or anything like that. It was a modest, two story house. Red brick. A quaint walkway leading up to the front, with what appeared to be nicely tended flower beds on either side of it. There was a Christmas wreathe hung jauntily over the door although Christmas was still over a month away. Kurt hated this, too. It was only mid November and there was no telling how cold this winter was going to be. He hugged his thin jacket around himself as a gust of wind seemed to answer for him.

Now or never. He carefully veered off the sidewalk and headed around to the back of the house, peering through windows as he did so. He hoped a family didn't live here. Taking from children was the last thing he wanted to do.

So far, so good. It was dark inside, no movement or flicker of a television. Hopefully whoever lived here was asleep by now as it was the middle of the night on a week night.

He tried the back door, unsurprised to find it locked. Luckily for him homes in this area weren't built with safety in mind, as this was a nice part of town full of neighborhood watch programs and good school systems. Most didn't bother with deadbolts.

Kurt jiggled a paperclip until he heard the tell tale click, slipping inside and closing the door quietly. First stop: kitchen.

He stood silently in the nicely decorated kitchen, listening for any sounds of movement upstairs. Nothing. Feeling secure enough to switch a lamp on, Kurt did so and began to really take in his surroundings.

There were a few dirty dishes stacked in the sink but other than that the place was spotless. Nice, marble countertops had been recently rubbed down and there was a tray of cookies sitting with seran wrap over them. Kurt's stomach celebrated just at the sight of them.

He swung his backpack around to his front and unzipped it slowly. It held all that he owned in it, and there was plenty of room at the top for him to stash some food. Kurt eyed the fruit basket first. He knew it wouldn't fill him up but he couldn't resist placing two deliciously red apples into his bag. He got bread next, there was only half a loaf left which fit nicely. Refrigerated food was out of the question, as it began to smell after only a day or two, so he opened the pantry instead. Some canned green beans and dry packaged noodles should hold him over for now. Sometimes one of the restaurants in town let him use the stove in the back in exchange for washing some dishes.

He was preoccupied with the thought of this food when he closed the door to the pantry, causing it to slam louder than he was expecting. He stilled immediately. After a few moments of silence Kurt let out a breathe and continued on his way. He flicked off the lamp and slipped into the living room, not planning on taking anything just passing through to the back door.

The room was cozy, a couch and two arm chairs facing the fire with a nice flat screen TV hung on one wall. Bookshelves covered one wall filled with countless titles and Kurt couldn't resist looking them over. He slipped two into his bag, thinking someone with a collection this large wouldn't even notice they were missing, and they would help pass the time during long, cold days and nights.

Something on the edge of one of the shelves caught his eye. It was beautiful. A small vase, with two dried daisies resting in it. Kurt stepped closer, he just wanted to look at it. He picked it up carefully in his hands, studying the pattern of delicate flowers and vines hand painted onto the vase.

He jumped, the vase sent flying, when he heard a cold voice behind him.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?"

oOo

Blaine was awakened by the slam of a door. It wasn't one of those creaks that all houses make, but an audible click that sent him sitting straight up in bed. He had always been a light sleeper.

He was a little alarmed, as there was hardly any crime in his little neighborhood, and he was sure he would receive no visitors at this time of night.

He listened for a few moments longer. Now sure that he heard rustling downstairs, he quietly slipped out of bed. Pulling on a plain t-shirt, he grabbed his cell phone and headed for the stairs. For once in his life he didn't bother with his wildly curly hair. He typed _9-1-1 _into his phone but didn't yet press send. Almost as soon as he was on the first floor landing, he saw him.

He couldn't tell what he looked like from this angle, only that he was small. Dirty brown hair, thin hands reaching for things on _his _shelf. Blaine couldn't believe it.

The smaller boy eyed one of his books, one of his _favorite_ books and slipped it into his bag. What else of Blaine's had this boy stolen? There was no telling how long the boy had been there, going through his stuff with his dirty hands and sneaking it away. Blaine's fury grew.

Something seemed to have caught the boy's eye and Blaine strained his eyes in the dark to see what it was. His heart nearly stopped and exploded out of his chest in the very same moment.

_His mother's vase._

The last thing she had made with her own hands. The last real, untainted memory he had of her. The filthy boy now had it in his paws, and Blaine saw red.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?"

The boy spun around, startled, and the vase went soaring. Time didn't seem to go in slow motion, like it does in the movies, and the vase crashed to the ground a moment later before either of them had time to react. Blaine froze open jawed. His anger returned ten fold.

"Look what you've done, you idiot!" The boy shrunk into himself, but Blaine's fury didn't allow him to see his trembling hands or tear filled eyes.

"Please, I'm sorry-"

"'I'm sorry,' isn't going to fix that vase, is it?" Blaine growled, advancing on the smaller boy. "What else have you stolen from me?"

The boy's hand shook badly as he reached into his bag. "I'll return it all. I swear. Here," he held his hand out with one of the books he had pilfered and Blaine snatched it with such force the boy cringed away from him.

"Like I would believe you. You'll return it all once the cops arrive."

"No! Please!" The boy's eyes were wide. "Don't call the police."

"And why shouldn't I? There is a trespasser in my home, who has obviously stolen my belongings. This is very much against the law."

"Please," the boy said again. Blaine held his fancy phone out with 911 already typed on it. His finger lingered close to the send button. "I can't go to jail." The boy's voice broke. This time Blaine noticed the tear streaming down the thief's face and Blaine felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for him. He quickly pushed this down, but he did lower his phone back down to his side.

"Give me your bag," he said.

The boy clutched his possession close to his chest. He bit his lip, seemingly comparing his options before looking up. "Will-will I get it back?"

"That's for me to decide, isn't it? Its full of my stuff anyway." The smaller boy deflated at this. After a moment of silence he held it out to Blaine and it was taken from his hands in an instant. Blaine moved to set it on the couch, keeping one eye on the huddling boy the whole time. "Now, let's see what you've taken." He looked down to reach into the bag.

On top was another book, also one of his favorites. Blaine found it curious that the thief had chosen two books-turned-musicals out of his extensive library. He looked up to say a scathing remark when he saw the boy had left. Without a sound, he was gone.

"Wait!" Blaine bolted to his back door to see it swinging open, the boy nowhere in sight. "Thief!" he cried. He knew none of his neighbors were awake, though. No one would hear him. He hit the door angrily before going back inside and slamming the door.

He thought about calling the police to report the crime, but knew they would probably never find the guy. Blaine growled, returning to the kitchen. See what else the little brat had tried to take from him.

He sat heavily on the couch, pulling the bag close to him. Next on top were a few packages of Raman noodles, cheap stuff he only ate when he was starving and couldn't stand to cook. Half a loaf of bread. Two shiny apples were carefully placed in the folds of a blanket so they wouldn't bruise.

This brought Blaine to the stuff at the bottom of the bag that wasn't his. There was a worn t-shirt, a tattered blanket, an extra pair of socks. A small pouch that Blaine grabbed, expecting (hoping) to find stolen silver or jewels. Instead there was a small stack of pictures, a locket, and twenty four dollars meticulously folded.

Blaine was beginning to experience an odd feeling in his stomach. _Guilt_, he recognized. It now was looking like Blaine was the one who had stolen, taking from someone who had very little.

_But he had broken into his home!_ Blaine tried to rationalize. But now he couldn't stop remembering details that his anger had blinded him off. The boy was painfully thin. His wide, scared eyes.

Blaine sighed, running a hand through his unruly hand before passing it over his eyes, exhausted. There was nothing he could do now. The boy was probably a mile away by then and in no mood to be found. Blaine zipped the bag up, resolving to get some sleep and begin his search in the morning. He was going to find this boy and return to him what was rightfully his.

oOo

**Hope the ending of the chapter wasn't too rushed. Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It had been almost two months since the break in. The winter snow that was festive during the holidays was now just wet and miserable, and the decorations coming down left the city looking bare. Blaine wrapped his coat tight around himself as he hurried from work.

He had searched for a while; the next day extensively and during the weeks following always subconsciously with one eye on the look out for the boy. Now, the incident was fading from memory. He didn't spend each commute combing the streets, fingering the pouch with the locket, pictures, and money that he kept on him just in case.

Blaine calmed his guilt by reminding himself that the boy had broken into _his_ home, not the other way around, and he had done nothing wrong. In fact, he told himself this so many times that some of his original resentment was back. Add in the fact that his mother's vase was gone forever, and there was a definite hint of annoyance in him whenever he thought of it.

"What's up, Blaine!"

Blaine grinned, drawn from his thoughts by a friendly voice he hadn't heard in too many days. "Jeff, how's it going?"

"Pretty good. Nothing exciting around here," the tall blonde gestured around the coffee shoppe, full but still cozy. "Assuming you want your usual?"

"Yes please." Blaine nodded. He leaned one elbow on the counter while the other boy in a green apron worked. "How's the place doing?"

"Pretty well. Business really picks up in the winter."

Blaine admired the place his friend had started. While he and Jeff had both moved to the city with high hopes of making it big in show business, Jeff had found himself extremely content managing his own small coffee and book shop. Blaine like to come in and catch up whenever he was in the neighborhood and had a moment to spare.

"Met that special someone in the last few days?"

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Please. I'm never settling down. You know that."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll see about that."

"It's true!"

"Is not. You meet more people than anyone I know. When's your next date?"

Jeff flushed a bit. "Tonight."

Blaine perked up. "Really? Who's the lucky guy?"

"You don't know him."

"Ohh, mysterious. Sounds sexy," Blaine winked.

"Maybe if you had a little of your own love life, you wouldn't be so concerned with mine."

Blaine grabbed his chest. "Shot to the heart, dude."

"Seriously though, you should go out again. Every hobbit needs his own Sam Gangee."

"Enough with the hobbit jokes, man," Blaine groaned. "Those were funny for about a year in high school."

"Nope, still funny," Jeff said. "Always will be."

"Whatever. Hey, I'm gonna head out," Blaine swiped for his hot coffee, stepping back so the customer who had just walked in the door could take his place. "See you around, Jeff. Don't have too much fun tonight!"

Blaine stepped back out onto the busy street to avoid the sarcastic comment he knew he had coming. With the prospect of caffeine in his system the day didn't seem so dreary, even though dusk was approaching and the wind chill was starting to pierce his heavy coat. He had a fairly long commute home from where he was and didn't feel like hopping on a bus just yet, so he decided to wander the unfamiliar neighborhood for a bit.

Truth was, he needed some inspiration. His goal was to put together a portfolio by the end of the month that he could show off to a few agents, since he finally had a little bit of money saved to help get his name out there. He wanted to do something creative, a video showcasing his talents or something, anything to catch someone's eye.

This area looked like like it had some potential. The buildings were old and antique looking. Dim lights lit up the darkening street and adjoining alleys. All sorts of people roamed the streets, and Blaine noticed a particularly bedraggled bunch lined up next to one building.

"Women and children to the front, please!" A man with a kind face was waving them to a separate line, ushering them inside and counting off as he did so. "Mary, how many is that?" he called inside.

Blaine heard a faint answer from inside the dark door. "Alright, we can take twelve more tonight!" The group outside shuffled some more; Blaine noticed a small figure close to the back trying to squeeze through to the front of the pack, but to no avail.

"...ten, eleven, twelve. Sorry folks, that's it for tonight. Try again tomorrow!" The grumbling crowd dispersed. The small figure Blaine noticed was lingering by the door, and Blaine stepped a little closer out of curiosity.

"Sorry, Kurt. I tried but couldn't save you one tonight. I would let you come in and sleep on the floor, but you know the policy. See you tomorrow?"

Blaine saw the back of the boy's head nod up and down. "Thanks for trying, Tom. I appreciate it." The voice was high pitched, and the slightest bit familiar. Where had he heard that voice before? The figure began walking off in the other direction and, without thinking, Blaine followed after him.

"Excuse me," he called, reaching a hand out and grabbing the boy's shoulder. The figure spun around quickly. Blaine immediately forgot what he was going to say. "It's you," he said instead.

The boy's eyes, Kurt, he remembered the man calling him, were large and fearful. His mouth hung open and Blaine could tell it only took him a moment to recognize him as well. Kurt gaped for a moment before stumbling back, pulling his shoulder out of Blaine's grasp. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure who you are. I've got to go." He backed away a few steps before turning and beginning to hurry away.

"Wait!" Blaine called. Kurt pretended not to hear him so Blaine darted forward and grabbed his arm, a little harder than he had originally intended. Kurt pulled at it for a second but ceased struggling once he realized his strength was no match for the other boy's.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked in a soft voice.

Blaine wasn't sure how to respond as he didn't know why he had stopped him in the first place. He reached up to run a hand through his hair and the smaller boy shrunk back into himself a little at the movement. Blaine froze. "Um," Blaine said.

"Would you let go of me? I won't run." Kurt gestured towards the hand locked in a vice-like grip around his arm and Blaine immediately released him. He noticed he had felt the chill of the other boy's skin through his threadbare shirt. Kurt reached a hand up to rub at his arm and Blaine noticed his naked fingers.

"Aren't your hands cold?" Blaine asked. He rubbed his own two gloved hands together for emphasis and Kurt seemed to stare at them longingly.

"A little." A gust of wind whipped between the two at that moment and Kurt stuck his hands underneath his arms as his teeth chattered. Blaine took note of his wind burned face and chapped lips.

"Oh!" Blaine exclaimed, and Kurt jumped a little. "I have something of yours." Kurt watched him warily as he reached a hand into his coat pocket, feeling around until he found the smooth pouch. "Here."

Kurt's eyes were wide at the appearance of the bag. He took it gingerly keeping one eye on Blaine the whole time. "Why are you giving this back?"

"It's yours," Blaine said simply. He watched the emotions on Kurt's face as he flipped quickly through the pictures, inhaling deeply and holding them to his chest for a moment. The locket was around his neck in no time.

"Thank you," Kurt breathed.

Blaine beamed, for some reason pleased with himself for making this boy the slightest bit happy. He didn't notice Kurt's fingers clenched around the small stack of money, seemingly fighting with himself before offering it to Blaine. "I owe you this, at least."

"What, why?"

"I tried to steal from you. I think I broke something of yours, too." Blaine's eyes flashed at this and Kurt immediately took a defensive stance, ready to dart away at the slightest moment. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," Blaine said immediately. He was a little surprised at himself for saying it, but he found that it was true. Any anger or resentment he once held for the boy who had broken into his home was gone at the sight of the small, shivering boy before him.

Kurt was surprised as well, and offered him the smallest smile in return. "My name's Kurt, by the way."

"I know. I heard you talking back there." Blaine tilted his head to the building and Kurt seemed to remember something at that moment. He cast a worried eye to the sky and fidgeted.

"It's getting late. I've got to get going."

Now that Blaine looked around, it was getting pretty late. The sky was darkening and it was much colder than it had been earlier in the day. As soon as Blaine turned and opened his mouth to say his goodbyes, he saw that Kurt had disappeared. Again.

"Wait!" He called. Kurt could have gone down any number of side-streets or alleys around him, and Blaine knew he wouldn't be finding the boy again soon. "I'm Blaine," he said to no one, clutching twenty four dollars in his gloved palm.

oOo

**Thank you thank you for all the feedback so far. Sorry this chapter is short, I'm hoping the next one will be longer/updated quicker. Let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Kurt kept his hands tucked underneath his arms as he walked. The brisk pace kept most of his body reasonably warm but his face was taking the brunt of the wind, his ears and nose chapped red and numb. He was beginning to regret giving the stranger his money. With the shelter full for the night and the temperature dropping dangerously low, his options were not looking good. Plus he could really go for a steaming cup of coffee.

For the first time in weeks, Kurt considered going back. Surely a warm bed and dinner every night was worth a few bruises, right? Getting knocked around a little was a small price to pay for the security of shelter. It's likely that he was overreacting by leaving in the first place, anyway. Dave _loved _him.

Somewhere in the back of Kurt's mind, he knew that love and aggression didn't go together. That jealousy was a normal feeling, but wasn't supposed to end in broken bones and tears. That he hadn't been overreacting at all.

Shivering, half from the chill and half from the memories, Kurt continued walking aimlessly. His mind wandered as his feet travelled of their own accord, turning and stopping and starting again. He wondered what Dave was doing at this very moment. If he was still looking for him. If he had found another warm body to curl up with at night. Kurt was surprised at the heartache that he felt at this thought. There had been good times, too. But the good turned bad faster than Kurt could change scarves, and the turmoil of emotions was too much to keep up with.

oOo

_Kurt couldn't keep still. He busied himself setting the table and stirring the vegetables, feeling jittery and excited and terrified all at the same time. He set the spoon down on the counter and straightened the cutlery on the table, making sure everything was just so. Pleased with how it looked, Kurt bounded up the stairs. _

_The bedroom was immaculate, which Dave would be pleased with. Kurt dug around in the back of his closet before emerging with the small, neatly wrapped box. Today was their third anniversary. Since Kurt didn't have a job and Dave carefully tracked all of their finances, it had been close to impossible to get him a present. Kurt had decided to give him something of his own instead._

_It was a set of cufflinks that his father had given him when he graduated from high school. Burt hadn't picked them out, of course, as he would never choose something as elegant as these on his own, but with Rachel and Mercede's guidance he had made a good choice._

_Kurt couldn't help but smile at the memory of his old friends. He hadn't spoken to either of them in months, and he made a mental note to ask Dave if he could give them a call sometime soon._

_The click of the door opening downstairs made Kurt jump and he quickly placed the package on Dave's pillow before darting down the stairs._

_"Honey, I'm home!"_

_Kurt giggled at the line from his favorite old sitcom and ran to Dave's arms._

_"Hi, Dave."_

_They embraced for a moment, Kurt choosing not to focus on the possessiveness he could feel in the squeeze of Dave's arms._

_"Mm something smells good. What are we having for dinner?"_

_Kurt blushed. "I made your favorite. Pot roast and mashed potatoes. Some mixed vegetables, too. But if you want we can stick it in the freezer and go out tonight." Kurt tried to keep the hope out of his voice. It had been at least a week since he had stepped foot outside of their small apartment and he was starting to go stir crazy._

_"I don't think so, baby. I want you all to myself," Dave said. He grinned and held Kurt close to his side as they made their way to the kitchen. _

_"Of course, I want you to myself, too. I just thought since it was our anniversary that we could do something a little diff-"_

_"I said no, Kurt." The playfulness was gone from Dave's voice and Kurt promptly snapped his mouth shut._

_"You're right. It would be silly to leave since we already have all this food here," Kurt's voice was small. They entered the kitchen and Dave promptly collapsed into the seat at the head of the table, leaning back and waiting to be served. Kurt scurried to make their plates, placing one in front of Dave before his own spot. He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and got a glass of tap water for himself. Dave seemed relaxed and Kurt breathed a silent sigh of relief before sitting down._

_"How was your day?" Kurt asked._

_"How do you think it was? Don't forget that while you sit around here all day playing house, I'm working to pay the bills."_

_Kurt didn't mention that he had begged Dave to let him get a job to help out but Dave wouldn't allow it. He chewed anxiously on his lip. "Thank you, baby. I really appreciate it."  
><em>

_"You better," Dave snorted. Dinner was tense after that despite Kurt trying to ease the tension by sidling up to Dave and resting a hand on his thigh. Dinner was drawing to a close and Dave suggested a toast. He held up his beer (now on number three) while Kurt held up his glass of water to clink against it._

_"To three years with the greatest boyfriend I could ever ask for," Kurt said, heart racing. He hoped it was flattering enough for Dave. Maybe he was expecting something longer; a speech. He couldn't do anything right. Kurt anxiously opened his mouth to say more but was cut off when Dave found his lips with his own._

_"To Kurt finally being able to make a decent meal," Dave said teasingly between kisses. Kurt smiled a little but felt a small pang. A day never went by without Dave making some sort of jab about his cooking, or cleaning, or appearance. It was impossible to be good enough. There wasn't any time to dwell on this, however, as Dave's kisses became passionate and demanding and he picked Kurt up and headed for the stairs._

_"What about the dishes? I know you hate to wake up to a dirty-"_

_"You can do them later," Dave's voice was all but a growl and Kurt could see the darkness in his eyes. He nodded. They clambered to the bedroom, Dave tossing Kurt onto the bed easily, climbing up behind him. He placed one hand on either side of Kurt's head but was distracted by the feel of a box. "What's this?" he asked._

_"I got you something. For our anniversary," Kurt said. _

_Dave looked curious and immediately suspicious. With no hesitation, he ripped the paper off and opened the box. There was a brief moment of silence where only Kurt's breathing could be heard._

_"Where did you get these," Dave's voice was quiet, deadly._

_"From my dad," Kurt began, "he gave them to me-"_

_"Bullshit!" Dave interrupted. He got to his feet so he could tower over Kurt once more and grabbed the smaller boy's upper arm. "Where did you get the money for this?"_

_Kurt gulped. He was nervous and tired and the last thing he wanted tonight was one of Dave's punishments. "I told you, I didn't buy them. I got them from my Dad-"_

_There was no warning before Dave's hand made contact with Kurt's face. He hadn't made a fist, thankfully, and his face was only stinging sharply instead of throbbing. "Don't lie to me, Kurt. I told you you were not to take any money from my wallet, except what I specifically tell you to use for the groceries. Is that how you did it? Bought the cheap brands at the grocery store so you would have money left over to get these? No wonder your food always tastes like shit."_

_"I'm not lying, I swear! I wouldn't lie to you. It was for graduation -" __It seemed Dave did not want to allow Kurt to finish a sentence as he was hefted by his arm off the bed and Dave began to drag him down the hall, Kurt struggling weakly. "Please, baby, not tonight. I'm so tired. I swear I'm not lying to you. Please!" Kurt's voice was desperate and pleading by the end but Dave continued resolutely down the hall and stopped at the last door on the left. "Oh god, Dave, please don't. I just wanted to do something nice for you. I love you so much."_

_"I love you too, Kurt. That's why I have to teach you some things. There's a reason I want you to tell me before you buy anything. I know what's best for you, remember?"_

_"I remember, you're right. I know. Please, not tonight."_

_"I'm sorry, Kurt. You just have to learn."_

_The closet door was opened and Kurt was placed, almost gently, inside. His hands reached out for the door but it was already clicking shut and he could hear the lock turning into place. Kurt took deep breathes as he heard Dave's footsteps receding. He clenched his eyes shut even though he was already cloaked in darkness and started counting backwards in his mind. It was an old tactic he used to use when he had been crammed in lockers or tossed in the dumpster back in high school. He tried not to focus on the walls closing in on him or the frantic, trapped feeling he had at the thought of not being able to straighten his legs. Silent tears tracked down his cheeks and he took a shuddering breathe to sing softly to himself._

oOo

That had been the day Kurt decided to run. Most of the time, Dave only punished him when it was necessary but this time he hadn't even let him explain.

The measly amount of money Kurt had spent six months stashing away had lasted him a few short weeks before he found himself homeless and hungry. The thought of facing the rest of the winter with literally no money to his name and no plan for the future was terrifying.

During his musings, Kurt's feet had led him into unfamiliar territory. The streets looked nice enough, and weren't as crowded as some so Kurt decided this was as good a place as any to stop for the night.

He carefully chose a side street with little traffic. The only door was a back entrance to a restaurant and Kurt tried to block out the heavenly scent wafting under the door. There was some sort of generator that was buzzing and hot to the touch, so Kurt curled up into a ball beside it. Cursing himself again for giving away his money, Kurt draped his sweater across himself and fell into an uneasy sleep.

oOo

**A/N: So there's a little of Kurt's backstory. Much more to come, and Blaine in the next chapter of course. I thought about making Dave a completely new character, since I really like the guy on the show, but decided not to. Apologize for him being so OOC. I think I'm going to have some free time coming up so will be able to update a little more regularly. I love hearing responses from you guys - yall are the best!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Blaine's alarm clock pulled him from a deep slumber and he burrowed under his covers, trying to reclaim the pleasant dream he had been having and ignore the beeping. Giving up after a few moments, he slammed the button to turn it off and slid from his bed. The floor was cold beneath his feet and he quickly made his way to the bathroom and into a scalding hot shower after shedding his boxers.

That was better.

The steaming water soothed him and he closed his eyes. Today was a big today. He had a call back from an established local theatre group. And for the lead no less! The thought sent excited tingles up and down his spine and he hurriedly got out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Blaine went downstairs to start a pot of coffee. He grabbed the bread and stuck two pieces into the toaster. He busied himself getting a plate and a butter knife out while he waited. When he was a teenager, on the weekends, he would cook breakfast for his whole family. Eggs, bacon, waffles, sometimes pancakes too. His older brother Cooper used to teased him about how domestic he was, but it was something he loved to do. It seemed silly to cook for one.

Blaine grabbed an apple and took a big bite out of it, triggering a now distant memory. It had been a few months since the boy, Kurt, had broken in and another week since he had seen him last outside the homeless shelter. He often found himself wondering about the boy, even though he knew the odds of running into him again in a city of this size were very small.

The pop of his toast jerked him from his memories, and he buttered the two slices before placing them at his small breakfast table. By this time the coffee was ready as well so he fixed himself a cup and settled down at the table. The crunch of his breakfast sounded loud in the silent house. Some mornings Blaine like to watch the news, but pre-audition butterflies were fluttering in his belly and he chose instead to try and get focused.

The lead!

Five years of singing and dancing in the background was finally paying off. Or it would, if he landed this gig. His entire high school career had been spent headlining for his school's glee club, so the real world had come as a bit of a shock to him. Instead of shooting straight to the top, as he had silently expected, he had been cast in ensembles and even straight up rejected.

Originally, the disappointment had been great but in no time at all Blaine began to channel his energy in a more positive direction. He practiced. He worked harder than ever before, on top of holding down two jobs. The near constant state of exhaustion was a small price to pay for success. On that note, Blaine finished his breakfast and drained his coffee, heading back for the stairs. What on earth was he going to wear?

oOo

"So, how did it go?" Blaine's blonde friend Jeff chirped from the other end of the line. Blaine tried to keep his excitement in check.

"Good, I think," Blaine said. "Better than good. I nailed it! My acting could use some work, as always, but I didn't miss a line. And I totally _killed_ the song. God, I hope they liked it."

Jeff giggled. "Way to go Blaine! When will you hear back?"

"Sometime this week, hopefully. They were seeing two other guys today so I guess it just depends on how well they do. But I passed one of them on the way out, and he didn't look the part at all."

"Well I hope you get it. I don't think I can handle any more of your bitching."

"Hey!" Blaine's tone was affronted. He stood at a stop walk, waiting patiently for the little man to light up and give him the go ahead to cross the street.

"It's true. If you perform in one more show without so much as a solo I think it'll drive more than just you crazy."

"That's not true. I enjoy performing, no matter what."

Jeff snorted. "Bull. You love the spotlight, don't even try to deny it."

"Okay, fine," Blaine grinned to himself. "But its the other way around, the spotlight loves me."

"Har har, I'd like to hear what your old _Hairspray_ director thinks about that."

Blaine cringed. That had not been one of his finer moments. "Whatever man. What are you doing right now?"

"Just at the store as usual. You coming by today?"

"Yep," Blaine said, just as he approached the front door. Through the window he could see Jeff leaning against the counter, absently doodling on a pad and holding his cell phone against his ear with the other. Blaine walked in causing the bell above the door to tingle.

"Gotta go, there's a custom-oh." He set his phone down on the counter as Blaine approached and he eyed the expression on his face. Blaine's eyes were twinkling and he was wringing his hands together, a gesture he only did when he was nervous or excited. "What have you not told me?"

"You know me too well," Blaine smiled. "Guess who they cast as the leading lady."

"Lauren Tillman," Jeff said straight faced. He was referring to Blaine's ex-girlfriend, a disastrous experience in high school that had solidified what Blaine already knew-he was one hundred percent gay.

"Very funny. How do you even remember her name?"

"Are you kidding me? How could I not. I only had to pretend to be her for two hours while you practiced your break up speech."

Blaine blushed. "It was not two hours."

"At least. Oh man, and then _you_ pretended to be her, so you could go through all her different reactions. And then-"

Blaine groaned. "Okay, okay I get it. What I was _trying_ to say is that the other lead in the play is Rachel Berry."

"What!" Jeff's eyes bulged. "Are you serious? The Rachel Berry?"

"The one and only. Can you believe it? We could be on the same stage."

"Holy shit. You're going to be famous."

Blaine held his hands up but was unsuccessful hiding his giant smile. Rachel was one of the most successful women on Broadway with her powerhouse voice winning rave reviews for every show she starred in. "I don't even know if I got the part yet, so I don't want to get too excited."

"Even if you land understudy you'll be able to meet her! And practice with her! Oh god, can you get her autograph for me? I'm going to frame it and hang it above my fireplace. Do you think you could invite her to my place for dinner one night? As long as you cook I'll buy some wine and maybe she'll tell us what it's like to work with the dreamiest guys on Broadway." Jeff had a faraway look in his eyes and Blaine laughed.

"I'll do what I can."

"Good. In the mean time, we need to celebrate." Jeff was already hanging up his apron and waltzing over to the front door, flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED and tidying up a few things.

"Jeff. We can't celebrate until I hear back. I don't even know-"

"Fine, if you don't want to celebrate we don't have to, but either way we're going out. There's someone I want you to meet..." Jeff's voice trailed off and he busied himself wiping down the counter.

It was Blaine's turn to be surprised. "What! You've been seeing someone and you haven't even told me?"

"I haven't had the chance. It's nothing serious, we haven't known each other long, but..."

"But?"

"He's a nice guy. I really like him."

Blaine's mouth hung open. "You _really_ like him? I don't think I've heard you say that about anyone other than me and your brother in your whole life."

Jeff shrugged. "Well this guy is different. And I want to see what you think about him."

Blaine was shocked. He had never heard Jeff sound unsure of himself. "Of course. What do you want to do?"

oOo

Blaine couldn't say he was excited to spend his Friday night third-wheeling at a glitzy restaurant and downtown club, but he was curious to see what boy had Jeff so out of sorts. Besides, maybe _he_ would meet someone special tonight. Especially if he casually mentioned he may be starring opposite Rachel Berry this coming year. The thought still made him shiver in excitement.

He made sure his hair was perfectly gelled and bow tie situated just so before heading out the front door. Blaine didn't mind sacrificing some of his fashion sense for the sake of warmth in the winter, and he bundled up in his heavy coat, thick gloves, and hat. It had started snowing that afternoon and was only supposed to get worse later in the evening.

They were meeting at the restaurant so Blaine started his car and waited a minute for the windshield to defrost before pulling out of his driveway. The drive was relatively short and traffic free, probably due to the terrible weather, the hardest part being finding a parking spot once he arrived. He ended up in a parking deck a few blocks away. Making sure his hat was securely tucked over his ears, he began hurrying down the street.

Blaine could smell the restaurant before he could see it and he subconsciously picked up his pace. He began removing his gloves but jumped, startled, when he heard a voice down the alley to his left. A door was open, illuminating the silhouette of a man brandishing a spatula.

"Hey, kid. What did I tell ya? Get out of here!"

The man nudged something with his foot and Blaine had to squint to see the small pile of rags and limbs wedged between the open door and a humming generator. As soon as the cook's foot made contact the boy jumped up, scurrying backwards on all fours.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," he said. His eyes were frantic and he looked confused for a moment before settling on the man in the doorway and seeming to come to his senses.

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't let me see you again. Boss said if we find you one more time to take ya inside and call the cops."

The boy was shaking his head frantically and he got to his feet. "That won't be necessary. I'm sorry."

The man grunted and slammed the door, making the boy jump once again. The boy had his back to him but Blaine could see him rubbing his hands together fiercely and stomping his feet in an attempt to warm them up. A part of Blaine, the rational part, told him to continue on to the restaurant. He passed homeless people all the time on the streets and often resented them because of how hard he had worked to be able to afford his home and start a career. What made this any different?

A different part of Blaine, the part that got him in trouble as a kid for bringing home stray kittens and once a half dead baby squirrel, urged him to stay. Blaine sighed to himself. He would slip the kid a few bucks and consider it his good deed of the day. Then he could enjoy his dinner with Jeff and look forward to his upcoming fame in peace.

**A/N: Thank you all for your responses so far! Some Kurt/Blaine interaction coming up next chap (obviously). **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Over the past week, Kurt had fallen into something of a routine. He spent days roaming the streets, sometimes begging, sometimes looking for a church or shelter in which to have a hot meal. He even inquired about a job once, when he was feeling particularly bold, though he knew it would never be an option with no form of identification and no home address to put on all the forms. At night he curled up behind the restaurant next to the pleasantly warm heater. Occasionally someone came out to tell him to get lost, but Kurt found that if he crept back a few minutes later they never came back a second time.

Until tonight.

He arrived a little earlier than usual to escape, as much as he could, the biting wind and snow that was beginning to fall. Almost as soon as he drifted off he received his usual warning. Kurt wandered for a few minutes then returned to curl up for the remainder of the night. If only that were the case.

Kurt knew the man was serious when he mentioned dragging him in to call the cops, so Kurt hopped around and tried to warm up his limbs before figuring out a game plan. It was too late for the shelters, they would already be full for night. Today had been a bad day and he spent his pitiful pile of change on a burger and fries off the dollar menu, he was mortified to admit. It turned out to be a bad idea as his stomach wasn't used to the greasy food, or that much food in general, causing it to rebel, leaving it emptier than it had been in the first place.

Turning around to leave, he immediately stopped in his tracks. A man stood at the end of the alley blocking his exit. Kurt couldn't make out his features in the dim light but he was faced towards him and wasn't moving, and that was enough to make Kurt stumble backwards a few steps. His breathe hitched as he waited to see what would happen next. When the man started to walk towards him, hand extended, Kurt let out a small squeek.

"I don't have anything you would want, I swear," Kurt turned his pockets inside out to show the man they were empty but then instead of leaving his hands extended the man raised them in a placating gesture.

"Whoa, whoa. I don't want your money," he said. As he got closer, Kurt was able to see his face and let out a short breathe. There was no animosity there, maybe the smallest hint of annoyance but definitely no malice. And even that disappeared when the man caught sight of the smaller boy's face.

"Kurt?" he breathed out.

Kurt took a step backwards, his mind going in a million different directions. How did this man know his name? His face looked a little familiar, sure, but that was it. Could it be someone Dave hired to look for him? At that thought his heart rate increased ten fold and he took short, gasping breathes. The man now looked at him with a somewhat alarmed expression.

"Who are you?" Kurt managed to ask.

"Blaine. My name's Blaine. I never got to introduce myself last time we met, by the shelter? I, erm," Blaine paused, seemingly figuring out how to word his next sentence, "returned some of your things that I had."

_Oh._ Kurt's breathe came easier but he still eyed the man warily. He had on a nice coat and his hair was perfectly gelled, which was probably why Kurt hadn't initially recognized him. He immediately felt out of place next to him; dirty and unkempt.

"What do you want?"

Blaine looked surprised at the question but quickly recovered. He dug around in his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I just wanted to-" he trailed off for a moment, taking in Kurt's emaciated figure, dark circles under his eyes, and trembling fingers. He seemed to weigh something in his mind before sighing. "-take you for a bite to eat. How does that sound?" He returned his wallet.

Kurt eyed him. He wasn't stupid, he knew when people were judging him. And it certainly wouldn't be the first time that someone mistook him for a drug or alcohol abuser and didn't give him money because of it. He too, weighed his options, and though he was insulted and offended, he was hungry more than anything. Though at one point he would have been too proud to accept such generosity, he wasn't anymore. "That sounds good."

"Great," Blaine said. He pulled his phone out and tapped furiously for a moment, during which Kurt stood uncomfortable and stuffed his hands in his pockets to stop their shaking. "Alright, off we go."

oOo

Blaine waited for Kurt to exit the alley before stepping out behind him, mulling over the situation. Now that he thought about it, the signs were there. Kurt was small, too small, and every time Blaine had seen him he had been nervous and jumpy. Plus there had to be _some_ reason that he was on the streets. Blaine's mouth turned down into a frown at the thought. It would be best for him to hold his judgement.

Jeff hadn't been too annoyed at his last minute change of plans, and Blaine suspected he was secretly pleased to get some alone time with his new friend. Blaine was going to meet up with them after dinner at whatever late night club the pair decided to try.

They walked for a moment in silence before Blaine attempted conversation.

"So, Kurt, tell me something about yourself."

He was met with silence. He glanced over and saw Kurt's head down, shoulders slightly hunched.

"What are the odds of us running into each other again, ya know? It's a big city."

When Blaine was once again given no response, he felt a hint of impatience creep up.

"Ookay," he said, drawing out the first syllable, "how does McDonald's sound to you?" Blaine watched Kurt carefully for a response, waiting to see if he genuinely wanted the food or would have just taken his money to use on something destructive.

Kurt grimaced. "That's fine," he said.

"Don't look too excited," Blaine mumbled, but nonetheless directed him to the right. They walked on in silence for a few blocks more before ducking into the fast food restaurant. "Alright, you go sit. I'll get the food."

Kurt opened his mouth to respond but bit his lip instead. He nodded and went to claim a corner table.

Blaine approached the counter and ordered two Big Mac combos complete with large fries and waters. On a whim he ordered Kurt a hot chocolate and placed everything on a tray before heading to the table.

"Everybody loves Big Macs, am I right?" Blaine asked.

Kurt didn't look so sure but met Blaine's eyes anyway. "Yeah, thanks."

"Sure thing." Blaine dropped into the chair across from Kurt and dug into his own meal. He watched Kurt out of the corner of his eye as he picked at his food. He looked grateful for the hot chocolate, at least, taking small sips every so often. "Something wrong with the burger?" Blaine asked. He was a little annoyed that he had gone through all the trouble of actually taking this guy with him, and now that they were here he didn't even want to eat. That seemed to confirm to Blaine that the boy didn't want his hospitality so much as his money.

Kurt tensed at the tone of Blaine's voice and looked up. "No, everything's great. I'm just not very hungry." Right on cue his stomach growled loudly and Blaine raised an eyebrow. Kurt silently stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth and Blaine almost laughed at how adorable he looked. His face was smudged and clothes tattered, but he still sat up straight and had one leg crossed delicately over the other. He seemed to force himself to swallow the mouthful.

"Geez, you don't have to eat it you know. I've never seen someone look so miserable eating french fries."

Kurt sat back in obvious relief at the statement and held his hot chocolate with two hands.

"Sorry," he said in a soft voice. "I guess my stomach's not used to this type of food."

Blaine finished off his burger. He supposed Kurt was looking a little green. "Come on," he said suddenly, taking his and Kurt's food and shoving it in the trash. Blaine missed the jump Kurt did at the sudden movement but did catch the distrust in his eyes when they met. "We're just going across the street. I promise."

"Okay." Kurt followed obediently, but Blaine didn't stop to question why this near stranger was doing what he told him to. They exited the fast food restaurant and darted across the street, entering instead a small deli and cafe. Kurt's eyes were huge and Blaine was pleased at the sight.

"This looks better, huh?"

Kurt nodded wordlessly.

"Great, you get the table again and I'll be right there." Blaine couldn't help himself. He ordered a sandwich, salad, and a cup of soup for Kurt, not hungry himself as he had just downed the burger and fries.

When he approached the table, Kurt had his arms wrapped around himself. He was staring out the window, seemingly lost in another world, and Blaine was hesitant to rip him from his thoughts.

"Why are you doing this?" Kurt asked, startling Blaine.

He sat down as he considered his answer. "What do you mean, Kurt? Doing what?"

Kurt finally, finally met Blaine's eyes and Blaine's breathe hitched at their sorrow and beauty. "Being so nice to me. All this," he waved his hand around at the restaurant and the fresh food in front of him.

Blaine attempted what he thought was a charming grin. "Why wouldn't I?"

"No one else does," Kurt muttered, averting his eyes once again. Blaine wondered what Kurt had been through to think a single, casual meal was so meaningful.

Blaine fiddled with his thumbs a little uncomfortable, thinking about how he ended up here in the first place. If he had just tossed Kurt a couple bucks he could have been on his merry way, but something told him he had done the right thing. Instead of dining in a glamorous restaurant with friends, he was here, in a small cafe, drawing some strange and sometimes disgusted looks with a virtual stranger.

He found that he didn't mind.

**A/N: Sorry this is a short one! Next will be longer and up pretty soon hopefully**


End file.
